Nazi Freak: Boy of the Gas Mask
by queenBaldwinIV
Summary: Karl Kroenen's life starting from boyhood to achieving manhood and eventually life as he falls in love, kills, becomes undead, everything in the movie and more. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One Chapter OneThe Boy and the Hell God

Karl awoke in the middle of the night only to pull back his light cover of blankets that he laid under to look at his latest gash upon his thin stomach. At only twelve, he had many scars, some from his father, but mainly from the knife that his father had given him when he was only five.

Reaching under his pillow, he felt the beautiful cold steel he had loved all his life. Following the edge, he grew more comfortable in the dark night. As long as he had pain, he could do anything. Even though he loved the darkness of night, he still looked for his comfort, his beloved pain. His rough fingertips moved lightly over the engraved symbols as he took it into the moonlight. Twirling it within his hands, he knew that nothing could ever come between him and his knife.

At school, he was laughed at and called a freak because he always wore gloves and clothes that covered his entire body even during the summer where most children his age went swimming or laid in the grass in the schoolyard. All people could see was a child huddled in a corner attempting to never be noticed in life. He was always that boy in the back of his class with wide fearful eyes and shaking body when someone would pass by him. Metal, precious metal didn't have that effect. It was meant to be his only love in life, he had thought back then, the only thing that could please him with such vague ideas of torment that made him moan in pleasure, even when he toured the capitals of Europe to sing, he missed them utterly. In fact, he mourned them while he was away singing for the masses and watching them in pity.

He was always the freak. He would always be the freak, he soon realized. Because he was different, but he didn't care or mind, seeing them for who they were and noticing their dark secrets that they all carried. He was no different from the man in the ally taking the woman's clothes off with impatience. Seeing their inner demons at a young age, and he had no choice but ultimately to find comfort in it. But still everyone wanted to criticize him for any bad thing that happened to the town because he couldn't hide. He had thanked god as it seemed when he was a young child that he was never there and the blame soon disappeared, however he was known as the freak still, never coming to school like a normal boy ect.

Karl couldn't remember when this talent had not prayed upon his sanity. This talent to cut upon things. The feel of blood flowing through his skin and onto the floor, or the tough but tender meat as he dug into his arm and removed a chunk of the meat only to replace it once again like a puzzle. Once he had even skewed a squirrel and once it was dead cut it to pieces only to put it back together making it look new with only matted fur and the stench of a dead soul.

He had a tantrum that day, and earned his fathers harsh cold punishment- a switch when he was young, a rod when he was older. Nothing remarkable in being beaten; most of his classmates were, and Karl had been often enough before, but usually for reasons he could understand. But for every time he was punished, he asked for more, secretly wished for more no matter if it were a rod or a branch.

In a rare moment of empathy, Karl's father had asked, "Why don't you scream like any other boy? Do you like your punishment?" He was young, but knew even then that the full truth would only earn him more pain.

"I deserve this punishment and I will take it with a calm attitude. Always obey your parents, is that what the bible teach?" he had lied.

"Yes, yes it does. Good boy." His father's empathy soon turned to confusion and wonderment but a man he only was and the wonderment soon passed thinking that his son was speaking the truth.

He begged his mother for gloves one year hoping that he could hid behind the leather or cloth, seeing them upon a window seal in France. Begging for them upon the street, his mother gave in and bought the fine leather, not knowing what he would do when they reached their home once more. Not knowing the horrors of her son, his lust and obsession. But it wasn't only an obsession; he hated this pleasure, this demeaning of ones self. Once returning home, he found his knife and instantly set to work upon his hands carving into them wondering what was below the skin, a sickening sweet smile upon his face as he let the blood drip upon the floor.

Once a boy tried to take his gloves. When Karl got them back, he tripped the thin scrawny boy down the steps of a dark hallway that no one dared to use. Karl stood over him before anyone else came, and leaned down wondering what he should do to the pathetic piece of meat that lay sprawled before him. Then he bared his hand and stated with a cruel voice, "I will show you the hurt that I have endured today without my gloves."

Taking the boys thin hand, he grabbed a finger and with a much practiced twist, cracked the bone until it broke in half, letting the limp finger hall and repeated the session enjoying the screams that issued forth until he finished the hands. The last one started to bleed and drip upon his hands as he removed it. Taking his hand, he sucked at the pooled blood in his palm, smiled then left the thing to think upon what he had done.

In the forest near his family's home he found dead squirrels, insects, even once a dead wolf, and he would study them wondering if he could piece them together. Eventually he didn't care about life only chaos and death; he could soon predict the catch of faltering breath, the feeling of blood slowing, and of the heart beat stopping. The dead animal would soon pile and rot bringing more deadly animals to his knife. That was around the time he started to hear them.

He could even still remember in detail when he first heard the Elder Gods. He was fast with his pocket knife and skewered a squirrel as it came to chew on the bread he left as bait. It yelped in pain as it tried to wriggle away from where his blade impaled it's tail. That was the first time that Ogdru Jahad had spoke to him. Of course though, he didn't really hear them at the time, but he learned later that every drop of blood spilled for pleasure is a message to them- it wasn't the cravings of chaos or death, but it reaches them all the same.

He made the squirrels death last a long time hoping that it would bring more pleasure from it, more meaning that what it had given him. But it was a death of a family member; the cat who had perished under his knife when the seven elder gods had made their presence known. Under the map of death woven in the cat's matted fur was their promise. If he would be their servant, they would take his hated gift from him. But he must prove his loyalty, no mere animal, a dumb; unthinking thing but a human must die under his knife.

That was only a week agon upon his twelfth birthday. And Karl Kroenen cried for the last time, but the messages from the gods were implacable. And even as he sat upon the mossy ground and pitied himself, he felt a growing temptation. Yes, that was the next step in facing his pleasure. He dried his eyes on his sleeve, and made his plans.

Now as dawn approached, Karl cut deep in his arm and drew his own blood, which made him smile. Today was the day where he would be rid of his awful curse. And yet he would be a slave to a no holy thing. It made him shiver slightly knowing that soon he would be pleased with himself and not for pain or the company of strangers in the night that whispered how they pitied him.

Having a week to plan and save for today, Karl ran the process again through his mind. There was a widow named Welsker who had bore a deformed son. Soon after his father had killed himself and rumor had it that the father had killed himself out of grief. But Karl knew otherwise since he had seen the bastard of a father only in England a month ago taking upon him a new wife a young blond girl with a rich family. Humans were all the same, Karl thought bitterly, how he hated it all.

Karl passed the grave of Alfred Welsker, and paused for a silent moment to read the inscription.

1901- 1911

Loving son who had died to young

Karl then placed a nazi gold bar upon the grave of the child he had killed for greed and lust so long ago.

He had lured this innocent child into the forest where he had killed so many before with a simple thing as sweet abstracts from his mother's kitchen. He had held the boys sticky hand in his own as they walked to the forest. And as he held the boys hand Karl felt at peace, this young boy was pure it seemed, nothing horrible to reveal, nothing to keep a secret nothing at all. However, he bound the boys mouth with his handkerchief and cut the soft throat with his pocket knife. The blood splattered on his hands and watched as the boys brown eyes sank into realization that he was going to die. He felt no remorse, no sorrow, only wished he had found a more worthy sacrifice.

That time the Elder God's message wasn't subtle; darkness fell and they took his mind entirely for a time, filling him with magic and memories of dark things that had not yet occurred. The utter chaos and destruction of everything that was born from the spirits that had poisoned them. And their plan to destroy the world, to fix what had been made undone. When Karl returned to himself he knew his great destiny: to bring the Ogdru Jahad back to earth, to be a servant for them and seed thoughts upon the willing people that would live it the Ogdru Jahad's paradise.

"Wait," he had cried out as he felt their presence leaving him. "What about your promise?"

The blackness around him darkened slightly but there were no words, nothing but emptiness. It was as if the gods were mocking him for not embracing his pleasure, to realize that he would always remain this way, the way of a freak. Suddenly a voice like a whisper of the wind came to him, "Why would you want to be normal? Embrace the gift that we gave to you."

"You promised!" he screamed into the empty woods. A child's protests, some dry voice in his mind noted. The body at his feet was gone, nothing of it remained besides Karl's bloody handkerchief.

Now as he drew in a ragged breath from his gas mask that he wore so often now adays, the same dry voice that he had heard so long ago came again. "My devotion was betrayed… I am so sorry Alfred, if I only knew." Since then, he chose fencing and later on surgical officer just because he could cover his face until the early 1900's. He could still even remember the year that he had rid his hatred of himself only to bore a new one.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two Chapter Two

Motions of Madness

"Doctor Karl Kroenen, occupation… surgeon," announced a voice as a thin young man entered a red velvet carpet politely.

Whispers started dancing around the great ballroom about this young surgeon who has never shown any skin in his entire career, not even for the famous Hitler when asked. From the young bachelors to the old ladies who stood off to one side looking in their spectacles rudely. To Karl as he looked, it was the same every time. At first it bothered him only slightly, now he only pitied them.

"They say behind that mask, there is a hideous face," commented a bachelor to an awaiting woman.

"It's that freak surgeon! Why on earth is doing here?" Questioned an elderly lady to her small group of prevailing old hags that smelt like old soap.

But everyone had the same dark chill that ran down their warm spines as they glanced upon the richly dressed man that came down the steps. From the black suit and gold trimming to the dark gas mask that covered his face, many people thought that agony and pain had barged into a party of life and prosperity.

Karl who now went by the sir name bowed to the king and queen, but he was here only for one reason and that didn't involve the useless dancing and drinking. Not to have fun as everyone else was having now after their dark thoughts about the mysterious surgeon.

It was in the mid 1920's and the most popular thing that escaped everyone's lips was of Adolph Hitler and his branching army. And Kroenen was here only to discuss issue with one of Hitler's top chiefs Reich about his surgical studies. The study of the reformed dead.

Kroenen was himself proof of unliving things under his own condition. Meaning in his own point of view, under his own surgical scalpel, and incisions. A disease known as masochistic compulsion, or better known to most other patients that he had practiced upon as surgical addiction.

Now, as he quietly headed to a dark hallway, he reached a door that contained inside his meeting which involved Reich and Hitler himself. Once he entered, both Hitler and Reich stood in a friendly greeting. Kroenen in return hailed Hitler and bowed to Reich as would a gentleman of past times would do to someone of great importance.

"Kroenen, one of my top scientists," announced Reich.

"The one who has been working upon the mechanical warfare?" Hitler asked.

Kroenen looked away at the dishonorable accession then answered for himself, "Dr. Kroenen of the mutant army and study of the Ogdru Jahad army, sir."

"Ah yes," Hitler then stated calmly as if he never had insulted Kroenen, "Have you made any progress?"

"The mutated army has given me some answers upon practice which I have later done to myself. Number 132 gave me the practice of metal incisions of fine wire inserted upon the muscle tissue," Kroenen paused for a moment to show Hitler his fine stitches where he had inserted the metal mesh within his arm, "It's completely flexible and makes a human ten times stronger. With the proper black magic inscribed of course."

"How long until we can practice and make me a full army of these mutants?" Hitler asked.

"After I work out the pain that is caused upon human actions. Number 132 died two weeks after I had inflicted the mesh upon myself." Kroenen answered in disgust.

"Then why aren't you dead?" Hitler asked his temper flaring.

Kroenen licked his bare teeth as he had done when attempting to smile and only causing pain, "Number 132 was not immune to pain as I am even with high doses of morphine he could not prevail. I on the other hand can survive with nothing."

"So why are you bothering me with this if I cannot have what you are offering?" Hitler asked, tipping his cigar into the ashtray.

"Because it can work upon some. But they would have to be heavily mediated at all times." Kroenen stated boldly.

"Are you on any medications Dr. Kroenen?" Hitler asked.

"I had stated that I wasn't before, but this incision doesn't concern me." Karl replied with a small voice.

Adolph sat back for a moment considering a few thoughts in his mind before speaking them, "Dr. Kroenen, have you ever thought of becoming one of my assassins?"

"Assassins?" Karl asked. "Sir, I am a surgeon, and an inventor, not a common assassin."

"But you are a murder, deep down." Hitler answered with a determined voice. "Tell me, you do these experiments on people who once were alive, but you killed them for your own desire. To bond metal with flesh, that is not all of what you experiment upon. Tell me if that is not murder."

"They are still alive while I conduct my experiments. Yes they do die, but it may not be murder after all," Karl seethed through his teeth looking down for only a moment remembering the child he had killed many years ago. "They were willing patients anyway, but I will accept your proposal as long as the occult would accept it."

"Why the change of mind?" Reich asked, his thick brow raised slightly a habit that he did often no matter if he was confused.

"It is not the change of mind, but the will to serve and to be loyal for those who are above you and trust you with their very lives," Kroenen replied, clicking his heels together, "I must leave. I have business with my patients. Even though this ball is rather exciting; you will contact me if you want me on a case?"

"Yes," Hitler smiled noting the sarcasm in the masked mans tone as he left.

Karl tilted his head as though in an emotional way of returning the mans smile before leaving. Leaving the two men behind, he walked back through the ballroom, his mind on many emotions that he hadn't felt in many years. As he passed the many eligible women, he did not even notice that they were all looking at him with a hopeful smile, and red blushing in their cheeks as he passed, or that they were even thinking about him in the first place. Instead his mind and emotions seemed to be back when he was a child, when he would sit at the ballroom with his father and forced to sit in the dark corner because a girl who dance with him found all of his scars. Anger filled his mind as he passed the women, and quickly left them, smiling at they're embarrassment that they were refused.

"Excuse me!" came a beautiful voice that interrupted Kroenen's thoughts as he stepped outside.

Looking down he was shocked to see a woman with long blond hair and a red dress that hugged her hips in a fashion that made his eyes turn to lust sprawled upon the stone stairs before him. Tilting his head in confusion he asked through his mask, "Yes?"

"You pushed me down here! I only expect a gentleman like yourself to help me back up." The beautiful woman stated with a bashful nature in her voice.

"I am terribly sorry my lady. I had pressing matters within my mind," Karl apologized helping the young woman up. "I did not see you."

"Through that horrible mask, I'm surprised that you can go anywhere without falling or bumping into other people." The lady replied. "Did you just come back from the war?"

Kroenen's tilted mask was disregarded , and attempted a pitiful laugh instead to get the point across. However he didn't want to tell his darkest secret to a stranger no less than an attractive woman, instead he asked sweetly, "What is you name?"

"Abby Smelkivich," the red dress ruffled a little as the wind blew threw her legs, and the silver pendant around her neck dropped low toward her cleavage. But she was no stupid woman as she asked, "And yours?"

"Karl Kroenen," he replied bowing as he continued in a hurry remembering his studies and forcing himself to look away from her breasts, "Mrs. Smelkivich, I must bid you a good night, and my apologies for what happened earlier."

As Karl walked away into the sweet cold night, he could hear her whisper quietly as though to an invisible wall, "Goodnight Karl." Chuckling only a little he continued to walk for indeed he had so much to do.

The leaves were crisp with frost as he crunched over them to get to his palace sidewalk. Though his parents hadn't been rather rich when he was a child, Kroenen now looked upon one of his many houses. Benefits of the occult however, it did suite his needs with an evasive dark lab of where he stored most of his experiments for the government. Just as well as many rooms for the picking multiple studies, and he couldn't care less about a dinning area however there were three.

The ruins beneath the palace however no one knew about except those of the occult where he hosted parties and rituals. However, his laboratory was the place of where it received most of his attention. Up above the palace was filled with dust, his bed new and the sheets stiff while the cooks stayed in the kitchen waiting for their master to state that he was going to have a party or that he required food. Other than that they sat upon barrels telling stories of sleeping the day away. At night however, they were wide awake listening to the screams and huddling in a corner stating that their master was a monster. He had many libraries that were never in use and if ever they were for the occult with books of the seven gods of chaos, or dark magic inscriptions that he and Rasputin read to the occult for religious purposes.

The wood was filled with termites and spiders hung in the dark corners while monsters in the ruins below of which none thought ever lived. Once a maid traveled down to the ruins he remembered when he first received the palace and came to face a demon hound. In return maids he thought were too much to care for in the end with the business to clean up after the monsters or whatever force ripped the humans to shreds.

Opening the large oak doors, he threw his coat to the floor, knowing that someone would come and pick it up while he continued to walk looking about himself to see if there were any cooks or other appointments that had wandered while waiting for him or Rasputin while he was gone. Seeing that none was in sight, he walked with silent feet to a black wooden door that he knew led to the cellar of where his lab was stationed. The large army of the dead soldiers dangling from tubes within the darkness awaiting him to return and try to revive them.

Lighting a torch, he waltzed down the steep stairs and into the darkness excited that soon he would be with his knifes, his lovers, his friends. He could imagine at the moment having the cool steel touch his hand as he grabbed up a patient and stab into the skin to feel the overwhelming power of controlling their mind. To bond with the steel and feel it coarse through him as he took off his gloves and place them to the side only to give the hard steel of the many surgical utilities his full attention.

Stepping off of the last brick, he entered a large strip of hallway that led to his destined spot. The iron doors held behind them the many rows of surgical tables and glass jars for the many bodies that held within the black tubes piping in gases and poisons of his own concoction while the dead bodies of his victims floated helplessly in the green fluid. At the end of the room sat the pile of his failed experiments that would soon be discovered as dinner to the dark forces that surrounded the room. Their rotten bodies Karl knew stunk the room to beyond, the blood seeping through the crack of stone and to the ruins below. Soon the demons would come up and take their premade food.

Hitting a large button after closing the doors behind him, the room lit into a dim illumination only enough for Kroenen to see what he was working on. Approaching a table, he took his gloves off and tied a white apron around his waist before picking up the scalpel of which he then smiled behind his mask knowing that he was now alone with his precious. Spinning in the air, he turned to his latest subject before slicing into his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three Chapter ThreeABBY

Abby looked about the crowded ballroom tracing the rim of her wine glass, however, her mind however was far from the dancing and drinking. A few men approached her either out of pity or curiosity to see why she wasn't waiting to be courted and she only ignored them with a wave of her black gloves. The only man that had entered her mind that night was the lovely yet mysterious Karl. Even though he had been rude earlier, she couldn't help but continue to think about him. As to why he wore that mask, was there something to hide? She took another drink from her wine the dry taste of it making her look down at the glass. Of course white wine, her least favorite her bitter thoughts rose to the front of her mind leaving the deal of that mysterious Karl alone. It seemed to her however that ever since she had met the man that was the only thing that held her mind. His kind words to her, the strong hand that reached to help her up and the mask.

The large clock in the back of the ballroom suddenly made its daily dong of twelve as she stood to leave. The night was young she thought as she looked out upon the young couples who were still dancing together as though the world would never stop for them. Smiling only to amuse others, she looked out at the balcony to see only the moon and a few couples that held their beloved's hands. What a depressing sight, she thought suddenly as she shoved her chair under the table and set the satin napkin upon the black tablecloth.

Turning to take an exit, she spotted the notorious war hero of Germany, his brown uniform and all of his medals sparkled in the light as spectators for his cause flocked to see him. However his eyes she knew only scanned for one thing. Taking a deep breath, Abby turned to take an exit from another place; another hole to disappear into so that he wouldn't look her way. However that wasn't the case for even before the clock finished its work she could hear Hitler's voice stretch into her ears forcing her to turn toward him and his company of men.

"Abby Smelkivich! What a pleasant surprise to see you here." The sly voice suddenly interrupted her movements.

"Adolph," Abby smiled silently walking toward him and his crew of gentlemen. "Why out so late?"

"Since you refuse me at any costs, I am here to find someone else to court," Adolph replied not taking in her mocking hints.

"That's wonderful," Abby continued attempting to come up with a lie to finish the conversation but was interrupted.

"But while your hear," he began releasing the young woman that was by his side, "Would you like to dance?"

"Oh I would love to," Abby lied through her teeth then continued, "But I'm afraid that I was already asked."

"By whom?" the man asked returning his hand to his side with a look of defeat, and anger within his eyes.

"Karl Kroenen," Abby lied attempting to control her face from turning red.

"Kroenen?" Hitler asked, looking about him for the black gas mask wondering if she was telling the truth. "Where is he? I don't see him anywhere."

"He said that he wanted me to meet him at his home, and that is why I'm leaving at the moment." Abby smiled surprised that she had gotten this far in her sketchy lie.

"Do you need a lift?" Hitler asked, then without another thought continued not waiting for her answer, "Come I'll take you."

His hand shot out and grasped her's all the while the ballroom split into a babbling brook of how the two had gotten together, and why she would want to court a man who masked himself from everyone. So she thought as she was husked away from the room, he always has that dreaded thing on his head. But now she was faced with the only spare amount of time that she had to continue to lie and with Adolph knowing who this strange man was it seemed that she was now caught in a lie.

Following Hitler, she continued with a small voice now, "Well, I would think it wrong to invade his house with you since of our past, and how you wanted to court me for so long. He might get the wrong idea."

"Nonsense," Hitler smiled, opening his car door for her to slide in. "Kroenen is my top assassin at the moment, I have just successfully positioned him the role tonight. He is after all a gifted surgeon, but of course you already knew that I presume."

"Of course," Abby smiled, unsure of the subject anymore.

But it was too late to turn back anyway or possibly get back handed by Adolph as the car started and they were on their way.

Karl removed his smock finally and set the tools down upon the metal table. Looking up at the clock, she sighed wondering if he should take a break from his hard labor. Rinsing his hands from the blood, he placed his black gloves upon his scarred hands and with one final look took the torch from its resting place and pushed the same button that he had hit on the way down. His many tubes and tables were suddenly swallowed in the darkness, only the stairs were illuminated as he started to walk up them. Once back up to the main house, Karl shut and locked the doors after he pinched the flame off of the torch that he carried and set it upon the table. It was only then that a voice broke the silence of the darkness that surrounded the house.

"Master Kroenen, Adolph Hitler is at the door requesting your presence," the voice was old and recognizable as Kroenen turned.

"Thank you Rupert, I will go there then. Prepare a bath for me it you will," Karl replied passing the old man and disappearing down the hall wondering what Hitler was up to.

Opening the door, he looked out upon his guests. There stood to his mock surprise the attractive woman of whom he had ran into earlier that night. She was hooked by Hitler's hand and with a smug look Hitler asked, "I believe that you lost something at the ball Dr. Kroenen."

"Indeed I have," Karl replied, looking upon Abby with confusion wondering what she was trying to get out of. Then it hit him as Hitler's grasp tightened around the young woman's arm. Looking upon Hitler, he became jealous at once when the man before him was practically drooling over the woman that he found attractive. "I believe she is with me Adolph, in any case, thank you for bringing her, she had stated at the dance that she would be here in two hours, I wasn't expecting her so soon. Come Abby."

He opened the door wider so that she could come in and with all means the girl practically flew through the door leaving an angry Hitler after her. Stepping in the middle of the doorway preventing the man to enter, he continued, "For a renown leader of Germany, I would not dare take a step further. Please leave the woman alone; she has caused you no harm. She only speaks fond words of you as though you were her mentor. Not a lover."

At this statement, Adolph looked upon Kroenen with a new interest forgetting about the girl, his lust disappearing from his eyes. At Kroenen's smooth lie, the man left.

Karl watched until Hitler was gone from sight off of his street with his car and group of people. Shutting the door behind him, Kroenen tilted his mask; something he had done for years now instead of showing amusement or wonderment or any emotion at all; wondering why he didn't tell the truth to the man. But even worse now he had a woman in his house, with a subject to deal with. "You may come out now, he's gone," Karl continued sweetly looking about himself to see if he could spot the woman.

The red silk dress stepped quietly from behind a clock of which the gas mask turned to greet her. "Thank you so much for taking care of him for me. He's been after me for nine years now."

"My, my that must be frustrating." Karl then offered his hand and continued sweeping her to one of his many dinning areas, "Well while you're here come join me for a drink and something to eat. My cooks are just dying to make something lately. Come, sit."

As Karl chauffeured the thin figure to his dinning room, he couldn't help but notice the small spots of blood upon his black sleeves. Helping her sit, he quickly left stating, "I will tell the cooks to make something for you."

Abby watched with a curious fascination as the masked man left the room, his silent steps reminding her of a cat. However, a thousand questions filled her head as she listened to the slow tics and tocks from around the room. Her parents would have asked the questions bluntly to the man however she learned that it wasn't the best way to get the answers you wanted. Instead she pried them from others. Of course with Hitler she had always been rude and arrogant. An awkward sense with this doctor however made her want to think like she had done to no man. A famishing game of wits it seemed now like a chessboard that men played to only be defeated by all one day.

Kroenen rushed to his room after speaking with his head cook to go to the woman and to prepare her a meal meant for a king. The well tanned man obeyed instantly his body quivering with fear at the presence of his master at night. Kroenen watched as the blood drained from the pathetic face and the once well tan that the cook had achieved disappeared from the black tint of his mask. But to more important matters the mask thought silently as he paced the dark hallway to his room.

It had been ages since he had stepped into his room, he suddenly realized. Everything that he ever needed was either handed to him by his butler or was already in a study or his lab. Now as he opened the door he wondered if he dared to look inside. Breathing like an old dog, Kroenen stepped inside.

Through his tinted lens, his blue eyes could see his room had not changed. Dust from many years sat upon his desk and his broken clocks were strained with the weight of the heavy dead air. The walls were becoming decrepit, and spiders along with various other bugs now inhabited the dark corners. His bookshelves were full of more dust, and he wondered if he could still pick up the ancient parchment that was given to him by his master.

Abby sighed thoughtfully tapping her fingers upon the wooden table. Now bored, she wondered if she should trace the strange engravings in front of her again. Some she realized as she carefully looked upon them were caused out of anger, the deep gashes like wounds to the ancient table, the others were designs that seemed new somehow, as though from a Celtic religion of forgotten days. Her thoughts began to gather once again as she traced the deep gashes once more when suddenly she heard footsteps. Turning in her chair expecting Karl, she was disappointed by a man with short blond hair and dim blue eyes approach her with the look of servitude upon his hard face.

"The Master would like to know what you would like to eat and dine with this supper," The man asked with a short bow and a tiny voice.

"Anything is fine with me," Abby replied with a devilish smile upon her face as she continued before the cook left, "Can you tell me anything about your master?"

The man's face furrowed, as he replied quickly, "No I must not speak of him, and neither should you."

"I was only," Abby started to apologize however the cook was already walking away into the darkness.

With another huff, she turned in her chair wondering once more as she always did since her plan failed of what Karl Kroenen was like, who he was, and why he was an assassin to Hitler. Or maybe something much worse since he was also a doctor, and what would Adolph prosper with a doctor and assassin?

Kroenen unbuttoned his shirt under his jacket spotting the blood that had spilt upon him from the last experiment he had dealt with for the night. Removing his shirt, he tossed it aside along with his jacket; wondering if his servants would come and pick it up later or if it would stay with the rest of timeless objects that were forgotten. Filled with stories however never deviled into possibly because of fear or forgetfulness.

Looking at the mirror, he sighed wondering how he ever became like the man he was. Though his chest was tight with the wire mesh that he had implanted, the many scars and ruined intestines that he had done to himself over the years seemed to make a woman cry from the very presence of his chest in public. He had gone to a pool party not that long ago invited by Rasputin and he had been asked why he didn't get in the pool. More or less at the end of the night he was commanded to enter the cool waters below him. So like every man then he took off his shirt and was met with screams from the various women and harsh looks from the men all save for Rasputin who seemed to find enjoyment out of his humility.

Touching the mirror slightly, he felt the cool dust and the metal that surrounded it. Ah, how could he forget his precious metal? Taking his hand away slowly, he reached to open his closet wondering if all of his jackets were still there. Opening the door quietly, he picked through the moth-infested clothes. In defeat he closed the door, and made for his dresser. There he knew would be a dress shirt of which he hardly wore anymore knowing full well that no one would have wanted to be seen in public with him. Smiling, he opened the dresser door quickly wondering if his guest would be waiting for him by now.

Taking out the shirt, he quickly buttoned the small buttons and before leaving, grabbed his uniform trench coat and quickly slipped his knifes inside.

Abby leaned into her food, the smell of the roasted chicken finally settling into her mind and hunger. She had waited patiently for Karl, however since he didn't come back, she decided to start to eat without him. The fresh cut strawberries and the grapes and apples were upon a platter in the middle as though for dessert. However that was the first thing that she had snatched up was a large grape that looked as though it weren't from this planet. The juice of it as she ate was wonderful, the skin rubbing against her teeth as she devoured the pulp. The fresh fruit reminded her of a story from one of her slaves about the monster who sat behind a table with such large dishes of wonderful sweets and food that it tempted any child that entered his domain and after they ate a morsel of food did that monster devour the child.

The clock upon the wall rang suddenly to mark that it was one in the morning. How interesting it seemed that she was now here with the man that she had ran into early into the night. Had she stumbled upon him on purpose? It seemed to be so like fait, but only if she believed in that.

But even food didn't ease her mind about the strange doctor. Through collage she wasn't too keen on psychiatry however this man was full of mystery that could be solved with it. If only she had taken that class, but she didn't and now she was forced to do something else.

Karl stood at the doorway looking at the woman as she ate. He had intended to walk in and sit opposite from her and watch her eat however he couldn't help but look at her now. Not in lust but curiosity. He had never really known a woman like her, or any for that matter. Now there was one sitting at his table of her own free will, and she didn't fear him. How strange women are, Kroenen thought, then walked to the dinning table to announce his arrival.

"Is the chicken to your liking?" Karl asked in an act of being a gentleman, something no one knew that he could act like.

The question seemed to startle the woman for she turned so quickly it made Karl take a step back. Once the gray eyes spotted the tinted lens of his mask, the woman nodded, her mouth apparently full of food to take care to respond to his careless question. Karl made a quick bow to acknowledge this and moved to the opposing end of the table to sit and watch her eat.

It was after a few bites that Abby looked up at the strange man and asked, "Have you already ate dinner?"

"Of course," Kroenen lied smoothly admiring her voice, something in the back of his mind before when he had run into her earlier wished to hear again.

"I am so sorry that I came here. I didn't want Adolph to do anything to me and your name just popped in my head when he asked me who I was with. I'm very sorry that I disrupted your night." Abby apologized suddenly setting her fork down.

"I understand, but please excuse me for me saying so, but I think I'll rather enjoy your company. I hardly ever receive company, so it is no problem to me. Please, stay as long as you want, and your more than welcome to come any time you want. Friends are always welcome." Karl smiled and spoke with truth in his voice however his mind was filled with scheming thoughts about her for his master.

"Who might this be?" a voice suddenly spoke startling the two at the table, the rough texture and anger making Abby jump.

"Don't you ever have any manners?" Karl spoke to the voice without turning but answered the question, "This is Abby Smelkivich. Abby please excuse the rudeness of Leopold. He doesn't take to kindly to people he doesn't know."

Abby looked about her still not sure where the voice came from until she spotted a man evaporating from the darkness of a doorway with thick glasses and short black hair.

"You shouldn't have company without the masters permission," the man stated glaring at Abby. "What use would she be to him?"

"Hush, Leopold. She is a friend of mine, which is all you need to know. Now please, leave, your freighting her." Karl replied with a kind voice.

The man slowly left, his strong glare leaving with him. Karl sighed, knowing now that Abby would have questions about this so-called master. And he was right when she asked. "The master is Rasputin, of course at the moment he isn't here, but you will meet him when he returns. He is above Hitler even but more over is the seven who are one. That is the god that I was chosen to serve. The gods of chaos. Rasputin, my master and the servant of the Ogdru Jahad, has stated that if we are able to release the god from his icy prison that he will cleanse the world and rise a new one from it's ashes."

"What is the Ogdru Jahad?" Abby asked, her mind always open to new beliefs through her life.

"Come, I'll show you." Kroenen's soft voice replied, and the curiosity of which Abby had inherited from her parents made her stand and follow the man. "In the beginning, God created a multitude of spirits to guard over Earth. One of these spirits created out of mud and fire the Ogdru Jahad, though it did not live until the night when all of the spirits gave up to create purpose and life in the being that they created. Once awakening, the Ogdru Jahad gave birth to the first life forms of this planet. The watchful spirits, upon seeing the creation of these abominations, went to war with them." Kroenen then paused as though wondering if he should tell the last bit of information to her without showing her the book but continued anyway, " The Ogdru Hem were eventually all disposed of, with many of them barely clinging to existence in some fashion. Then the spirits encased the Ogdru Jahad in a prison of crystal and placed in the heart of the abyss. The other Watchers, however, no longer trusted the one spirit, and so they struck him down and destroyed all his remnants, save for one: his right hand. After that, God looked down in fury on what had happened, and exacted his retribution on the Watchers for botching their task: some were cast down into the pit, while others were stranded on the Earth to breed monsters."

"So this is your master? The Ogdru Jahad?" Abby asked as she watched Karl open a thick oak door.

"No, though I do serve them, my master is the Ogdru Jahad's messenger Rasputin. Our job is to free the Ogdru Jahad from it's prison so that it could bring about Armageddon and a new life for all. An Eden, if you'll put it please. The end of the world, and out of it a new one will rise from its ashes." Karl finished his voice so calm that it frightened Abby slightly, but also at the same time enthralled her to listen to more.

Kroenen reached his bookshelf where he knew that the book containing everything about the Ogdru Jahad and its children sat upon the shelf. Running his gloved fingers upon the spines of the many books, he came to the one that he was looking for. Slowly he removed it from its long destined spot, and carefully opened the pages until he came upon a picture. "The book is in Latin, however here is the carvings of the Ogdru Jahad carved in stone by its maker so long ago before he was crushed."

Abby took the book carefully and looked upon the picture before her. The carvings were odd it seemed, as though someone drew the diagram instead of taking a picture of it. However she could make the picture out after careful study. It seemed like a squid of sorts, with many tentacles and at each end of the tentacles sat a dragon's head. It's head was a large hump, that seemed to have hands, a dozen at lease, but it was nothing like the eyes that it beheld, like those of a dead octopus. It made her sick it seemed, and the room began to spin as she looked up from it.

"Why do you want the end of the world?" she asked looking upon the book still, wondering many more things that she didn't want to reveal.

"To start anew. To have none of this, filth, depression or aggression. The final mankind ruled under the Ogdru Jahad. That is my purpose to carry out and dream to see eventually." Kroenen stated through his mask taking the book back from the delicate hands of the woman. "Wouldn't you like to see it?"

"If one was sick of this world, yes. Why are you so sick of this time?" Abby asked attempting to delve into his mind and past.

"I used to tour Europe, France, Italy, everywhere to sing for others and all that I have ever seen was selfishness, anger, loneliness, ect. After a while, I grew tired of it. I could see how people treated others and I do not like it in the slightest, I only wish that it would end, then I met Rasputin who revealed to me that if we release the Ogdru Jahad then the world would start anew, and this was my purpose in life. I was born for a reason, not just to witness the cruelties of others. But to end it," Karl turned to put the book away and continued, "I can understand if you don't accept this belief of mine."

"Oh, I accept many beliefs my friend, yours is the most interesting." Abby concluded to herself mainly. "I mean that I have never heard anything like that before, usually beliefs work to better mankind, but yours just wants to ruin and then rebuilt it. I like it."

Kroenen stood transfixed upon the woman. She had caught him off guard, and he like it; he like the fact that this woman embraced the concept of death than to step away from it. She was the first to embrace such a thing.


End file.
